


True and Destined Price

by thecat_13145



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23629240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: The beginings of the Round Table, or my attempt to explain how Arthur already knew about the Round Table in the last episode.
Relationships: Gwaine/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Kudos: 13





	True and Destined Price

**Author's Note:**

> The Dubious consent is very mild (only briefly mentioned), but I still warn for it. The characters depicted belong to Shine and the BBC. No profit is being made. Title is from the Heather Dale Song of the Same name.

“I thought I told you not to follow me.” Arthur shrugged, heaving his sodden cloak off from around his shoulders and draping it over a chair.

“You don’t get to order me around. I’m the prince.”

Gwaine snorted, his eyes never leaving the window, though with the rain pouring down, very little could be seen. “How’d you find me?”  
Arthur shrugged. “Knew where to look. Kay would have found you too, if he’d thought about it.” He saw the muscle tighten, though Gwaine never turned. “I’m sorry.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before Gwaine spoke again. “What do you want, Sire?”

There had never been more bitterness or sarcasm in the title.

He swallowed, suddenly unsure of himself. “I want you to come back to Camelot.”

Gwaine snorted. “Not going to happen.”

Arthur walked slowly to stand beside him. They were nearly the same height, in spite of the year between them, Gwaine lean and built like a whippet, at least according to Kay, contrasting with Arthur’s muscles. But in a fight, a physical fight between them, Arthur’s not sure he could win. Gwaine didn’t object to fighting dirty, and if he lost his temper, then he was almost unbeatable.

Through the rain, he could see Llamrei, still standing tied to the tree where he’d left her, the rain bouncing off her coat, making her shire and whiney in distress.

He felt guilty about it, seeing that she was one of the finest in the stables. His father had only agreed to him taking her, as Uther believed he was visiting his godfather. Arthur shivered and reminded himself that the bishop of Eldermere was nearly 80 and unlikely to remember whether the visit had been at Candlemas or Easter, and wasn’t likely to see Uther in between those times, so no one would know.

Gwaine had left Gringlet in the stables. It was the one thing that gave Arthur hope.

“I know you’re angry with him about what he did.” He said, softly. “But is it worth…everything?”

Everything they’d talked about since they got lost hunting and found themselves at Torcliff. Since they’d seen the round table, and bullied Geoffrey into letting them look at the old Chronicles.

A Round Table, made up of the best knights in the land. No one higher than anyone else by right of birth.

Gwaine snorted. “It’ll never happen while Uther lives.” He said. Dropping his voice, he added. “Don’t know if I believe it’ll happen at all.”

“What?”

“She went to Uther for help and protection from Lot.” Gwaine’s voice was quiet, which was actually worse than when he shouted. Gwaine’s temper was hot, but it was quicksilver. This silent anger was eating at him. “She went to him, a widow with three sons, one of whom was already in his service,” He spat the word out. “For protection. He handed her over to him. To Lot, who she hated and was afraid of. My father was killed fighting for Uther, and he gives his wife to the man she hates and fears.”

For the first time in the conversation, Arthur was relieved that Gwaine hadn’t stuck around after the wedding. That he hadn’t heard the rumours that the Lady Anna’s belly was swelling, with a child that could not be her husbands.

Arthur knew that Gwaine was right, that Anna hated Lot with a passion that rivalled his father’s for sorcery. And he knew how desperate she’d been. If Anna had used everything at her disposal to try and persuade Uther to protect her, and his father had betrayed her…he prayed Gwaine never found out.

“You’re O.K. Arthur. You try and stand up to him, he just…he’ll never listen. Nothing’ll change.”

He repeated it, his voice low and depressed. “Nothing’ll change”

Arthur wants to argue with him. To tell him that it will change, that he’ll change it for Gwaine. He wants to drag Gwaine back to Camelot with him. To tell Sir Kay where Gwaine is so that he can retrieve his squire.

The trouble is he knows it’s pointless. It’s why Kay calls Gwaine “Golden Tongue or “Honey Tongued before he was a knight and even now when he’s in a good mood. Gwaine can talk anyone around to his point of view if he wants to enough. Geoffrey says if Gwaine would concentrate at his oratory a bit more, he could be one of the greatest diplomats the world has ever seen.

Gwaine however much prefers to use his tongue for getting himself out of trouble. Or in to it, as his mood may be, persuading Arthur that they won’t be missed if they sneak away from their books for hunting, leading raids to steal cakes for the kitchens, teasing Morgana and Gwen mercilessly, dragging Arthur into taverns and fights.

To be fair to him, he always owns up if they’re caught, and takes his punishment stoically and with good humour.

Gwaine is the one person he can count on to tell him if he’s being an ass, to stand up to him. The one person who can even come close to defeating him. He’s being with Arthur since he was three days old.

Life in Camelot without Gwaine is unimaginable, like life without Kay, Leon or Gauis. But Kay and Leon are now knights, and even Gauis has started to call him Sire. Now Gwaine wants to leave.

“If you ride south for another mile, you’ll cross the border.” He said his voice heavy. “Even my father will not dare purse you then.”

Gwaine turned around, looking at him fro the first time since he came into the room.

“I don’t’ agree with you.” Arthur continued, the words almost sticking in his throat. “But I do know it wouldn’t’ be right to force you to stay.”

He can’t put a word to the expression in Gwaine’s eyes as he looked at him. It’s like when his father looks at him when he’s done a complicated sword move right, except it’s not. It’s like Gwaine isn’t seeing him, but he is.

Then Gwaine shakes himself and the moment is gone.

He reached, placing a hand on Arthur’s shoulder “When you’re ready to build that new kingdom of yours, you come and find me.”

“How?”

Gwaine shrugged. “You found me this time.”

“Because I knew where to look.” He paused, considering it. “A promise. Every year you come back here for one day. When I’m ready to start building this kingdom, I’ll send for you.”

Gwaine’s head is on one side considering the offer, before he nodded. “Sounds fair enough.” He began moving, gathering up his things. Arthur grabbed his arm.

“Swear it.” Gwaine’s eyes reveal the truth. That he doesn’t think that days ever going to come. That he’s going to leave forever. That he doesn’t think Arthur will ever call him back. He has to show Gwaine that he’s serious.

“Here.” He reached up, pulling the chain he’s worn around his neck since he was small off and lifting the ring off it. It was his mother’s, the only thing he has of hers, in the same way that Gwaine wears the necklace with the symbol of the old religion on it, because it’s all his mother was able to give him before Uther’s men took him to ensure his father’s loyalty to the crown. He grabbed Gwaine’s hand and forced the ring into it.

“Swear it.”

Gwaine looked down at the ring. “Arthur, I can’t take_”

“Swear it. You can give it back to me when we start building the kingdom.”

The scene reminds him of picture in one of the books he and Gwaine found when they were sent to clean the library as punishment. It was about the ancient rituals, including the act of hand fasting. In the days of the old religion, men would give and receive rings as a promise for something, swearing before a statue of Herman. Geoffrey had found them and confiscated the book before he could finish what the ritual entailed. Gwaine’s a quicker reader, so he probably knows, but they haven’t mentioned the book. He hopes Gwaine recognises the ritual.

“Alright.” There’s a light in Gwaine’s eyes he hasn’t seen before. “I swear.” It’s strange and intense as Gwaine’s fingers close over his, over the ring. He can feel the other man’s pulse and it feels like it’s thundering in his ears.

Two sets of blue eyes meet and the promise feels more real. Like it’s not just a planned kingdom Gwaine has promised to, but something more.

Gwaine slowly releases his hand. “You’ll need to start now, if you’re going to convince your father you’ve been at Eldermere all this time.” He said, slowly undoing his own chain and stringing the ring on it.

Arthur stared at him. “How did you know that was where I told my father I’d be?”

Gwaine shrugged, redoing the clasp on the necklace. “Guess I know you too.”

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*//*/*/*/*/*/*

Seven years later

It was ridiculous to think of that day and of the promise of two men little more than boys.

Gwaine was probably dead by now, killed in the service of some foreign king, if the pox hadn’t got him.

Stupid to even think of him.

Never the less, he found himself guiding the horses towards the tavern.

It’s grown a lot in seven years, becoming slightly more respectable (though not by much).

“You know what you need after a hard day's hunt?” He asked, ignoring Merlin’s muttered response. He’s like Gwaine in the sense he isn’t afraid to tell him he’s being an ass, but he still can’t best Arthur in a fight, except for that first time, which Arthur ignores because knows, even if neither of them ever mention it that sorcery was involved and that’s just cheating.

“A nice, cold tankard of mead”


End file.
